Heart of Glass - By Sasha Gould Page 0,96
tell him, “and your sister will never have to see your face again. Venice will resist you.”
For a moment, his brow creases. “We’ll see,” he says. He casts out a hand and sweeps it through the air, taking in my body from the topmost curl on my head to the satin slippers on my feet. “Anyway, I already have Venice’s most precious jewel.”
“It’s lost, all lost!” Faustina cries, sinking to her knees.
Faruk comes to stand beside his master, and the two of them look out at the shores of Venice. “Are you ready to see your city aflame?” Faruk sneers.
I send him an icy glare. “You may have bought Massimo, but Vincenzo’s fleet—”
Halim gives a bark of laughter and hurls away the bare stalk of the chrysanthemum. “Oh, Vincenzo! Savior of Venice! If only it were so.”
Faruk is grinning too. The breeze around us stiffens, and I understand. A gift from our friends, Faruk said. More than one.
I shake my head. “No—he wouldn’t—”
“Will someone explain to me what is going on?” wails Faustina.
Halim smiles. “That’s right. The man your father would have you marry, the person you dismissed as an old fool? When I raise a flag from my mast, he’ll be waiting for the signal. He’ll turn his cannons on the Venetian fleet. The Doge’s ships, armed with nothing but useless powder, will be aflame within moments.” He brings his face close to mine; I have to force myself not to cringe away. “And there’s nothing you can do, my Laura.”
So Massimo and Vincenzo were in league all along. That’s why the Bear summoned him back. They worked together at the party last night, Vincenzo drawing me to one side while Massimo applied the tainted wine. It is no secret how much I despise Vincenzo. But to be capable of something like this? It is unthinkable.
The attendant guards us at swordpoint while Halim strides across the decks, organizing his men. Flags are raised, giving signals to other ships in the fleet. Men scurry this way and that, readying themselves for battle. When Halim passes close to me, I can’t help but call to him.
“Your sister meant nothing to you, did she?”
He smiles, but only anger lights up behind his eyes. “You’re wrong. She betrayed our plans. I loved her until that moment.”
“She sought to uphold the honor of both our countries,” I say.
Halim scoffs. “This is war. Honor is an abstract concept. There is only victory, or defeat.”
“Then I hope you taste the latter.”
Halim jerks his chin at something beyond my shoulder, and I twist round to take in the sight of Venice’s fleet sailing towards us, ready to chase the Ottomans out of sight.
“We shall soon find out,” he says.
The long Venetian galleys sit low in the water. Their sails bulge as gold flags flutter at the top of the masts, and the decks are crowded with men—officers, soldiers and sailors.
I spot Vincenzo’s ships. Each has three masts; sails bearing his crest snap in the wind. The sea swells, and water foams as they carve a path through the water. They’re gaining on the Venetian ships by the moment.
My mouth turns dry. The Doge’s men are trapped between a traitor and a madman. As I watch the ships moving through the water in formation, my stomach knots. Vincenzo might be easily bought, but I will never give in to men like Halim. I must find a way to fight back.
I turn around, careful to erase the expression of anger from my face. I needn’t have worried; Halim is not thinking about me anymore.
“Raise the red flag!” he shouts, pushing me out of the way. He goes to stand at the edge of the ship, braced between two swivel-mounted guns. Men are sponging the barrels and carrying the iron balls into position.
“Are we going to die, Laura?” Faustina asks in a quavering voice.
“Not if I can help it,” I tell her.
A man pulls on a rope, craning his head back to gaze at the sky. Halim’s flag unfurls and flutters out, then begins to rise slowly up the mast.
This is it, I think. The battle begins.
As ropes are tightened and tied off, the sails catch the wind, and the ship begins to move through the water. The whole fleet stirs. We slice through swells as men scramble to and fro through hatches. From below deck I hear pounding feet and shouted instructions as the well-drilled crew go about their loading.
As we sail to within a hundred yards, Halim offers